"There was no ill feeling between them?"

"I am quite sure there was not."

"Have you any explanation to offer, or any suggestion to make, regarding the finding of Mr. Thornton's body in your partner's private apartments?"

"I can account for it in no way. It is a profound mystery to me. No one was more surprised than I was when the body was discovered in Mr.

Silwood's sitting-room. The shock was so great, indeed, that I fainted away."

"What was the date on which Mr. Silwood departed for his holiday--I understand he went to Italy?"

"He went on the very night that Mr. Thornton disappeared, or the following morning. A note was received from him on the Sat.u.r.day morning saying he was off--that was the day after Mr. Thornton's disappearance."

Here Inspector Gale interposed, and said it would be proved that Mr.

Silwood left on the Sat.u.r.day morning.

The words caused an immense sensation in the room; the feeling was general that this had an important bearing on the case; in the breast of almost every one present there was the impression that the dead man had been murdered by Silwood. Black despair clutched at Francis Eversleigh's heart-strings.

Gilbert was next called, and said what he had to say in a manly, straightforward manner.

Inspector Gale now came upon the stand, and put before the jury the facts as he knew them. In brief, he said the facts were that Mr.

Thornton, on the Friday night in question, left his hotel with the declared intention of going for a walk in Holborn or in Chancery Lane; that he did not return; and that his body, fifteen days later, was found in Stone Buildings, which was a part of Lincoln's Inn, practically in Chancery Lane. Also, that the room in which the body was discovered belonged to Mr. Silwood, who had left London the morning next after the disappearance of Mr. Thornton. The conclusion was obvious; yet, on the other hand, there were two considerations to which importance must be attached: one was the absence of motive on the part of Silwood, the other was that on the very night of the disappearance, a man, dressed as a workman, had been seen to issue from Lincoln's Inn, from the Stone Buildings end of the Inn, and that he had not been able to find out anything about this workman. In these circ.u.mstances he suggested that the jury should return an open verdict.

Gale's reference to the mysterious workman was the first intimation the public had received of that person; it had the effect somewhat of casting doubt on the certainty of Silwood's guilt.

"An open verdict," said the coroner, with a curious inflection of voice.

"Wait till we have heard the medical evidence."

Dr. Gilson, an eminent man, called and sworn, said that he had made an autopsy on the body, according to instructions from the coroner.

"With what result?" asked the coroner.

"I found no trace of violence on the body; there was absolutely nothing to indicate Mr. Thornton came by his death by foul means. On the contrary, my examination showed conclusively that death came from the bursting of an aneurism. Mr. Thornton undoubtedly died of heart-disease.

In other words, he died from natural causes."

"From natural causes!"

The thing seemed beyond belief.

The coroner, who had been prepared for what was coming, glanced at Gale, and on his face was the ghost of a smile.

Every one in the room looked at every one else with blank amazement.

"From natural causes!" they repeated to each other. Then Morris Thornton had not been murdered after all. But on reflection they saw that the mystery was not solved, and now they inquired, how had he come to die "from natural causes" _in Cooper Silwood's rooms_?

When Francis Eversleigh heard the doctor's words, a light of gladness came upon his face. For the first time for days he seemed to breathe more like a man; but like the rest he was astonished and asked the same question all were asking.

A second doctor, of equal eminence with the other expert, confirmed the statement of his colleague.

"There is not the faintest shadow of doubt," said he, "that Mr. Thornton died from the bursting of an aneurism. He was not murdered, he died from natural causes--so much is absolutely certain."

After this there was very little to be done.

The jury brought in a verdict that Morris Thornton died from natural causes.

But the Lincoln's Inn Mystery was as great as ever.

CHAPTER XVII

Never had there been a more baffling mystery.

Morris Thornton, the missing millionaire, had not been murdered either by Cooper Silwood or the mysterious workman, either of whom might have been thought guilty of the crime; medical testimony, based on the scientific accuracy of an autopsy, was conclusive on this point. The man had fallen a victim to heart-disease, and there was no getting away from the fact. But a great deal about the case called loudly for explanation.

Amongst others were such queries being put as: How did Thornton come to be in Silwood's rooms? Had he gone there of his own volition? If so, with what object? And once there, what had taken place prior to his death? And who had locked the door upon him? And did any one besides Silwood have a key to the rooms?

It was a curiously tangled skein: would it ever be unravelled? or would it take its place among the many unsolved mysteries of London? The Thornton Mystery continued to be the talk, the question, of the day, and many keen brains set to work upon it. The popular imagination, too, was powerfully impressed by the pathos of the idea of Thornton, after years of striving and success in the land of his exile, coming home only to meet his death in this strange fashion in the midst of such extraordinary surroundings.

As for the inquest itself, its wholly unexpected result filled the general public with astonishment. In some minds it excited a feeling of alarm, because it showed how possible it was for a man to pa.s.s out of sight, to be lost and swallowed up, even to die, and all this take place without the police, the guardians of the great city's peace and safety, being aware of it.

Both the amazement and the alarm were evident in that unerring reflex and register of opinion, the Press of the country. Not a newspaper throughout the land but commented at length on the subject. They were at tremendous pains to set forth the whole dark story with the utmost minuteness. Some even attempted a solution of the problems it disclosed.

And in one instance, at least, this led to a further development.

The _Morning Call_, a well-known London journal, had secretly changed hands; it had a new editor and for the most part a new staff; every man on it tingled and burned to distinguish himself and cover his paper with glory. The general line taken by the _Call_ was the sensational, and the Thornton Mystery was just the sort of thing out of which it calculated to make fresh capital. From its point of view, the tame finding of the jury at the inquest was overwhelmingly disappointing. Westgate, a member of its staff, who had been present at it, told his chief, that the result was "simply disgusting." And his chief, with a smile, had sympathized with him.

Westgate had come from a rival paper known as the _Morning Light_, and was a very smart and capable journalist. From his natural bent, as well as from his training, he had made himself an expert of no mean standing on all matters connected with crime. He would have been an excellent detective, but the detective service, which is not recruited from the most intelligent cla.s.ses in the world, gave no sufficient salary for a man of his stamp. As a journalist, he earned twelve hundred a year, and was well worth every penny of it. Inspector Gale, the best detective in England, did not get five pounds a week.

Westgate's chief, who had been editor of the _Morning Light_, knew and appreciated the speciality of his subordinate. Discussing the case after the verdict, he asked him what he thought of it.

"I don't know quite what to think," replied Westgate, "but I am not satisfied. There is something in the affair that does not meet the eye; there is something behind it all. For one thing, I feel as certain as I am of being alive that the solution of the mystery rests with Cooper Silwood. It turns on him as on a pivot. I take no stock in the tramp's story of his seeing a workman coming out of Lincoln's Inn on the night of Thornton's disappearance. If the tramp was in Chancery Lane at the time he said he was, how was it he saw nothing of Morris Thornton?

Morris Thornton was undoubtedly in the Lane--at least it is altogether likely--at or about the time the tramp said he was there. But, in any case, who would trust the story of a tramp by itself? Why, you can pick up a waster of the same kind any night of the year you like, and he'll pitch you any yarn he thinks you want. No, the case turns on Silwood."

"Well, suppose I grant you that, what then? If the solution lies with Silwood, it will continue to rest with him, as he is dead. You run your head up against a stone wall, Westgate. Silwood's death ends the thing pretty finally."

"Silwood dead!" cried Westgate, pursuing his own train of thought. "Just think of it! Isn't it the strangest thing in the world? In the way of coincidence it beats anything I ever heard of. Consider, for a second.

Suppose, for the sake of argument, it had been proved that Thornton was murdered, and that the murder was committed by Silwood, what a fortunate event Silwood's dying at this precise juncture would be for Silwood! You see that, don't you?"

"Of course, the coincidence is remarkable, but what more can you say about it? Silwood is dead, and that settles everything--so far as it can be settled. There does not seem to be much more to say."

"Though it does not appear to be much good," persisted Westgate, "still, the key of the situation, as I said before, lies with Silwood. I wish I knew more about that man. Personally, I feel certain that Silwood, when he went off for his holiday that Sat.u.r.day morning, locked the door on the dead body of Thornton."

"How you harp on this, Westgate! You have no evidence for what you say, either."

"There is a strong presumption, however."

"The exact time of Thornton's death is not known, yet you are arguing as if it was. You cannot say for certain that Thornton was dead that morning at all."